


Meeting the family

by ClassyGirlsWearPearls



Series: "Meeting the Family" and Other Tales [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, M/M, Meeting the kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyGirlsWearPearls/pseuds/ClassyGirlsWearPearls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Give me a name!”</p><p>Greg hesitated, then said, “Mycroft.”</p><p>Michelle let the name roll around in her brain, and then said, “I’m guessing that’s a name that belongs to someone who has a cock?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrvcodwjohnlocked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrvcodwjohnlocked/gifts).



> There is a fantastic Tumblr (mystradeiscanon) that posts Mycroft/Lestrade headcanons. I'm an idiot and decided to write a story based on one.
> 
> As with everything else here, I own nothing. I would love to thank the anonymous person who supplied this headcanon for letting my creative side run a bit wild. I'm sorry it is super awful. Please don't hate me.
> 
> Headcanon #6: Greg's ex-wife is actually okay with the relationship because it makes her feel less guilty for cheating. She and Lestrade become friends and she is the one who helps him tell the kids he is in love with a man.

 

Greg was nervous. He shouldn’t have been, but he was. It was ridiculous. He chased after dangerous criminals every day. He shouldn’t be worrying about what his children thought of him.

 

His twins, the two oldest, knew that he was bisexual. They had found out when Sarah came out when they were 12. Henry had sat next to her, holding her hand through her nerves, and had breathed a twin sigh of relief with her when their mum hugged Sarah and their dad confessed that he was also attracted to men. He had never hidden it purposely, but he just felt that it wasn’t relevant to their lives at the time. The four youngest still had no idea. He and Michelle just made sure that their kids knew that it was okay to be whoever they were, and they would love them no matter what.

 

Here he stood, though, four years after his daughter had worked up the courage to tell her parents that she was a lesbian, in front of all six of his children, his ex-wife of just over a year sitting in an armchair just behind him, there for support that he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have form her. Despite this, though, he couldn’t find the right words to say.

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks prior to this family meeting, he had called Michelle up and asked her to come into the city sometime so he could discuss something important with her.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked immediately. “You sound a bit off.”

 

“I’m fine, Michelle.”

 

“Greg. If you’ve been shot again, I swear-”

 

“It’s nothing like that. It’s actually something really great. Just, could you come down to the Yard sometime this week so we could have a chat? Just the two of us?”

 

Michelle was silent for a few seconds. “You don’t want me to bring the kids? I can’t take them out of school, but we can all come down for dinner. I know how much you miss them, and I hate that you don’t get to see them all the time anymore.”

 

“I would love to see them, but I really need to speak with you, Michelle. Just you. Next time, I will write all of them excuse notes so they can get out of class and we can all get lunch together.”

 

She chuckled into her end of the phone. “Nice try, Gregory Lestrade. How is tomorrow at one?" 

 

* * *

 

 

Most of the Yarders who worked under Detective Inspector Lestrade knew that Michelle Reynolds, formerly Lestrade, had cheated on their boss. The D.I. was a good man, and they could see the toll that her infidelity had taken on him. Those who knew him especially well knew that it had killed him before the divorce that he didn’t get to see his kids as often as he would like, and now that he barely got any time with them, he was doing his best to hide the fact that he was miserable.

 

That is, until six months after his divorce had become final, and one day their boss came strolling into the office whistling, wearing the same suit as he had been wearing the day before, and with a gigantic purple bruise that was ringed with teeth marks just barely visible on his neck.

 

Nobody there knew who exactly he was seeing, but they thanked them for improving his mood. Lestrade deserved to be happy, and watching him try to save a crumbling relationship, then dealing with being served with the divorce papers one afternoon during a particularly awful case that had even Sherlock stumped (he and John had found him slumped over his desk, shoulders shaking with silent sobs, tears dripping onto the envelope that held the papers that would most likely tear his family apart. John had decided that the fact that it was 2:30 on a Tuesday didn’t matter. Greg was taking a half-day with him, and he proceeded to get him spectacularly pissed before five. He spent the evening and night alternating between crying on John’s shoulder and into the toilet in 221B.), and finally as he couldn’t see his children as frequently as he wanted (despite the fact that he was free to see them whenever he wanted. Work and distance just got in the way) hurt the Yarders in a different way that it hurt their boss.

 

So when Michelle walked in, it was really no surprise that the place went fairly silent and heads turned to stare at her as she strode over to their boss’ office and rapped on the door.

 

What surprised most of them, though, was the fact that Lestrade lit up like a Christmas tree and pulled her in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He pulled on his coat and began making his way to the elevator with her, laughing and smiling like they used to before Michelle had stopped being faithful. He stopped at Donovan’s desk on their way out and said, “We’ll just be popping out for some lunch. Shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”

 

Donovan nodded coolly. “Michelle. Did you bring the kids down to see him?”

 

Michelle ignored Sally’s demeanor, much to Lestrade’s relief, and chuckled. “Lovely to see you, Sally. No, unfortunately they’re all in school right now. Greg and I just needed a bit of a catch up and to discuss a few things.”

 

Donovan’s eyes narrowed. “So you aren’t here to rip his heart out again-” (Lestrade glared at her and growled, “Donovan” as menacingly as he could manage.) “-because if you do I swear none of us will let you get away with it.”

 

“Sally, if you don’t think I feel awful about the choices I’ve made, you’re wrong. Just because you and Anderson haven’t been able to remain civil towards each other since he patched things up with his wife doesn’t mean that Greg and I haven’t been able to remain friends. We should get together sometime soon. If you need someone to talk to, I’m still here to listen, even if I’m not married to your boss anymore. Lovely to see you,” Michelle had responded. Then she put her arm around Lestrade’s waist in an intimate gesture that was obviously completely platonic and they walked to the elevator, leaving Donovan and all of her coworkers stunned.

 

(Later, Sally did take Michelle up on her offer, and they resumed their friendship like nothing had happened in the year and a half they hadn’t seen each other.)

 

Lestrade and Michelle chatted about the kids the whole way to the café they both loved, and it wasn’t until they had ordered that Michelle sighed and said, “Stop beating around the bush, Greg. You talk to them at least twice a day when you don’t see them. You know what’s going on there. Why did you ask me here?”

 

He ducked his head, and sighed. “I wanted to let you know that I started seeing someone and, well, it’s going really, _really_ well.”

 

That wasn’t the answer that she was expecting. Still, she smiled and grabbed one of his hands across the table. “I’m so happy for you!”

 

Lestrade raised his eyes slowly. “Really?”

 

“Of course I am, Greg. What kind of question is that? I feel like such a twat still for everything I did to you, and I doubt that guilt will ever go away. All I really want is for you to be happy. Besides, you know about the guy that I’m seeing and you were just as ecstatic for me as I am right now.”

 

“Ah, yes, you and your bloody psychiatrist,” Greg smirked.

 

“Yes, my bloody psychiatrist, you silly goose. But you know all about that. It’s my turn to listen. Give me a name!”

 

Greg hesitated, then said, “Mycroft.”

 

Michelle let the name roll around in her brain, and then said, “I’m guessing that’s a name that belongs to someone who has a cock?”

 

“Michelle!”

 

She giggled. “So I’m right?” He nodded. “Is he good to you?”

 

Her heart stuttered a bit when he got a look in his eyes that said nothing other than utter devotion. “He makes me so happy, Michelle.”

 

She squeezed his hand, and then pulled hers back. “You deserve nothing better than the best, Greg. If he ever does anything to hurt you, I’ll kill him.”

 

Greg snorted into his coffee. He didn’t doubt it.

 

“So how long have you been seeing him?”

 

“Well, it’s been about six months-”

 

“Gregory Lestrade!” she admonished. “You kept this hidden for this long?”

 

“To be fair, you would have probably told the kids, and I didn’t want to spring that on them or him that early on,” Greg pointed out.

 

“Fair play,” Michelle admitted. “Does he know that you have kids?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Let me revise that question: does he know just how many adolescent Greg Lestrade look-alikes that are running around in the world?”

 

“Absolutely. But, like I said, the timing hasn’t been right yet. He told me last weekend that he would like to meet them if I’m ready to introduce them, which of course, I’m over the moon about. It’s just, well…”

 

Michelle finished his sentence as he trailed off. “You still haven’t told Ian, Tristan, Charlotte, or Katie that you bat for the other team as well.”

 

“Exactly. I know that they’re fine with Sarah-”

 

“Who has a new girlfriend, by the way.”

 

“Wait. When did that happen?”

 

“Oh, she even hasn’t told me yet. I’m sure you would be the first parent she would break the news to, though, for obvious reasons. She just spends a lot more time at other people’s houses and comes home reeking of some God-awful perfume and looking all mussed up in the evenings.”

 

“Well, I didn’t need to know that bit. Anyways, I’m just a bit worried about how people will react.”

 

“Are you more worried about how they’ll react, or how the people they know will react when they find out that they might be getting two step-fathers?”

 

“Hold up, how serious are things with your bloody psychiatrist?”

 

Michelle shook her head. “Serious enough. That isn’t the point right now.” She pursed her lips, and Greg knew better than to interrupt her when she wore that particular expression. “People will talk, Greg. There is nothing we can do to stop that. Your children will love you, no matter who you end up with. They’re already so proud of you, that if anyone made some snide remark about you taking it up the bum, we would probably be receiving a call from the school about them breaking that kid’s nose. They’re your children, Greg. They don’t take abuse lying down. They will be fine.”

 

"I'm also worried about what people will say about you," he admitted. "I'm worried that people will think that I left you for another man. I think that would hurt you more than the actual reason that we split up." 

 

Michelle shook her head fondly. "God, you're an idiot. First, everyone who is important knows that I was a cheating bitch. It doesn't matter that you were the one who asked for the divorce, I killed the marriage. Everyone knows it was my fault, and frankly, I don't care that they do, because it's the truth. If people start to talk and say something about how you left me for a man, I won't give a shit. In fact, I'll be sure to set the record straight- oh shut up you immature bastard-" Greg snorted at her choice of words, because really, there was nothing 'straight' about this situation. "-because I don't want people thinking any less of you. Besides, you don't have to worry about it hurting my chances of finding someone. It isn't like Dave will be worried that since you're with a man, people will automatically assume that I'm his beard. So stop worrying." 

 

Greg looked incredibly relieved after her speech. “That’s what I hoped you would say. Would- would mind being there when I tell them? For moral support? I’m not going to do introductions then, but I would feel better if we could do this as a family.”

 

“Oh, Greg, if you didn’t think I wasn’t going to be there to see the expression on your face when they’re excited for you and to say ‘I told you so,’ you aren’t quite as smart as you used to be.”

 

“Oi!” he exclaimed. Still, he was happy that she was so supportive of his new relationship. Michelle had always been accommodating of his sexual preferences, whether it was him raking his eyes over the body of some man they saw in a shop, or the few times they had decided to have a threesome and he had taken her while their new partner had taken him from behind. She was fine with it because she knew that he would never take it any farther than that and cheat on her. The guilt constantly coiled in her stomach twisted involuntarily at that thought.

 

“So, when am I going to get to meet this ‘Mycroft’?” she finally asked.

 

“Well, here’s the thing,” Greg shifted awkwardly in his seat. “His schedule is nuts, and there’s only so much free time he gets, so he’s on the other side of the café in case you were okay with the idea.”

 

Michelle stared at him for a moment, then threw her head back and laughed. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go get your boyfriend, Greggie!”

 

Greg rolled his eyes, then stood up. “You be nice. He’s shy. I don’t need you scaring him off before I even get a chance to introduce him to the kids.”

 

Michelle put on her best angelic face, but he knew better. He glared at her until she waved him off, saying, “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

 

“Michelle. We were together for 22 years. I know what your ‘best behavior’ is, and I’m frightened.” Greg then turned and walked across the café to converse with a newspaper that completely obscured the body of the reader. She watched Greg converse with the mysterious man behind the paper, then smiled as the man folded his paper neatly and Greg leaned down and placed a quick, familiar kiss on the corner of his mouth. The guilt coiled in her stomach loosened a bit when she saw that.

 

Greg had done well, she decided, as he made his way back to their table with the man. He was tall, exquisitely dressed, and wasn’t too bad on the eyes. Despite Greg saying that he was shy, the man seemed to radiate confidence.

 

“Michelle, this is Mycroft Holmes. Mycroft, this is my ex-wife, Michelle,” Greg smiled.

 

Michelle stood a bit. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mycroft!”

 

Mycroft delicately took her hand and shook it. “The pleasure is mine.”

 

“I hope you know that I’m vetting you right now. You have to get through this lunch before you can meet the kids,” Michelle winked.

 

Greg groaned, and Mycroft smiled good-naturedly, “I hope I live up to your impeccable standards.”

 

They all sat down (Michelle took note of Greg pulling out Mycroft’s chair for him, bless him), and over the course of the next hour and a half, the sadness (not the guilt. Never the guilt.) that Michelle had carried for so long about her ex-husband’s loneliness after their divorce dissipated. Greg was smitten with his new partner, and Mycroft was clearly head over heels in love with him.

 

After their meals had been cleared away and they were all finishing their last cups of coffee, Greg had to take a call about a case. He very hesitantly left Michelle alone with Mycroft while he went outside.

 

Michelle sipped her coffee and remarked, “He’s an excellent man.”

 

“Indeed,” Mycroft had nodded.

 

“Look,” Michelle sighed, almost as if she was in pain. Mycroft cocked an eyebrow at her, his cup frozen halfway between its saucer and his lips. “I don’t have much of a leg to stand on. I broke his heart and I hate myself for doing that. I will never forgive myself for what I did to him.” Mycroft put his cup down and folded his hands on the table, bracing himself for whatever was about to come. “Greg’s the father of my children, and I will always love him, no matter who I’m with. He’s extremely special, and I know you see that because you’re obviously mad for him.”

 

“I couldn’t ask for a better man,” Mycroft stated honestly.

 

“I know. Believe me, I know. I can see that you love him and that makes me happier than anything right now, truly. But if you ever do anything to hurt him, I will hurt you, Mycroft Holmes. I don’t care what your official job title is, and I don’t believe this cock and bull ‘minor position in the British government’ story you gave me. If he so much as _looks_ sad, I will make your life so miserable that you’ll wish you were dead. Understand?”

 

Mycroft froze for several seconds and Michelle wondered if she had crossed a line until Mycroft said, “Michelle, I have no intention of ever hurting Gregory. He came into my life at a time where I wasn’t sure I was ever going to find anyone. For the longest time, I believed I still was going to end up alone because I would have never dreamed of breaking up your marriage.”

 

“I think that automatically makes you a better person than I am.”

 

“Not necessarily.” Mycroft looked down, took a deep breath, and then met Michelle’s eyes again with a look that shattered her. “Could I trust you not to repeat what I am about to tell you to a single soul. Not even Gregory?”

 

She nodded.

 

Mycroft opened and closed his mouth several times. “You must forgive me. I am rather inept at expressing the way I feel about others at times. It is something that Gregory has been helping me with.” He took another few seconds to compose himself, and Michelle began to understand why Greg said he was shy. “I love him more than I thought I was capable of loving anyone. I want to spend the rest of my life with him if he’s amenable to spending the rest of his with someone like me. Not yet, of course, but someday I would like to tell him that. He makes me so happy, and I am determined to spend the rest of my life trying to make him as happy as he makes me by just being himself. I’m not perfect, and I will admit that I have let my job get in the way of every other relationship I’ve had, but I am trying as hard as I possibly can to not let that happen with him. I would be completely lost without him and would sooner die rather than hurt him.”

 

Michelle was speechless for a minute. Then she placed a hand over Mycroft’s, which were still tightly clasped on the table, and said, “Mycroft, how would you feel about meeting our children?”

 

“I would be honored.”

 

They were still sitting there, grinning at each other, when Greg came back in. “What did I miss?” he asked, puzzled.

 

“Absolutely nothing, Greggie,” Michelle teased, patting Mycroft’s hands before pulling hers back.

 

Greg looked back and forth between the two of them, but neither would give anything away.

 

“Well, I guess we had better set up a time for you to break the news to the kids,” Michelle smiled. “Mycroft, would you like to meet them on the same day, or would you rather give them a few days to settle into the idea?”

 

“I’m sure it would be best if we gave them some time to get used to the idea,” Mycroft admitted.

 

“Then it’s settled. The kids are going to visit Greg’s parents in Bordeaux next weekend, so why don’t you tell them the week after that? I’ll make sure they’re all home and that Sarah hasn’t made plans to spend all day with the mystery girlfriend. Shall we say Saturday at three at the house?”

 

Greg nodded.

 

“Wonderful! I hate to do this, but I really have to go. Charlotte is having a friend over whose mother doesn’t like the idea of her walking two streets over without parent supervision,” Michelle said, rolling her eyes.

 

Greg chuckled as he stood to kiss her on her cheek. “Overbearing bint. I’ll walk you out.”

 

“Of course. Lovely to meet you, Mycroft. I hope I’ll be seeing much more of you in the future.”

 

“Likewise.”

 

Greg and Michelle made their way out of the café. “You have to let me give you some money for this. You aren’t obligated to pay for me anymore, Greg.”

 

“Don’t even think about it,” he smiled, holding the door open for her. “What did you two talk about while I was out here?”

 

“Nothing of importance. We were talking about your abilities in the bedroom.”

 

“If Mycroft was a different man, I might actually believe that lie. Really, Michelle, what was it?”

 

“I promised him I wouldn’t tell you, and I think it would be better if I don’t.”

 

Greg stopped. “Should I be worried?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

“You know I hate it when you tease me.” They arrived at her car, which was parked in a prime spot on the street, and they hugged. “It was lovely to see you, Michelle. Give them all big hugs and kisses from me, will you? Tell them I’ll call tonight sometime after 8, okay?”

 

“Of course.” He started to pull away, but she pulled him back in and whispered in his ear, “Greg, he’s a keeper. Don’t ever let him go.” Then she placed a quick kiss on his cheek before clumsily climbing into the driver’s side, trying to hide the fact that she was so happy for him that she was crying.

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks later, Greg had gone over his old house and all of his kids were piled on the couch in the sitting room, watching him. He knew that it would be fine, but for some reason, he couldn’t find the right words to tell his kids that he was madly in love with a man.

 

“You aren’t sick, are you Daddy?” Charlotte asked nervously.

 

“No, of course not, baby. I’m just as healthy as I’ve ever been.”

 

“Well what’s wrong?” Ian pressed.

 

“Nothing. Nothing, actually everything is fantastic. I just can’t seem to find the right words, even though I had a whole speech rehearsed.” Greg twisted his hands together and turned around to look at Michelle. “Could you help me out here?”

 

“This is your news to share, Greg. It will be fine,” she smiled, trying to sound as comforting as possible.

 

“But-“

 

“Kids, will you always love your Daddy? No matter what?”

 

Six voices agreed that yes, they would always love him.

 

“Good. See Greg, there’s nothing to worry about. Go on.”

 

“Right.” Greg scratched the back of his neck and scrunched up his face. “Well, I started dating someone a few months ago. Someone who I really like. They want to meet you all because you’re the most important people in the world to me, and I want to introduce you to them. Is that okay?”

 

“Dad, we’re fine with Mum being with Dave. What makes you think we would be upset just because you’ve got a girlfriend?” Tristan asked.

 

“Well that’s the thing-”

 

“What’s her name?” Katie asked.

 

“ _His_ name is Mycroft.”

 

All of them stared at the father for a few seconds before Katie said, “So you’re gay.”

 

“No.”

 

“But you just said-”

 

“I know what I just said. I’m not gay. I’m bisexual.” Katie and Charlotte looked confused at the terminology, so he said, “I like both men and women.”

 

“Oh. When did you decide this?” Charlotte asked.

 

“I’ve always been this way, love. Even before I met your mum, I dated both men and women. I wasn’t particularly looking for someone of a specific gender to date, but it just so happened that the person I fell in love with happened to be a man.” He swept his eyes from one side of the couch to another, looking for some sort of positive reaction from them.

 

Ian finally spoke up. “Does he love you?”

 

“Yes, and I love him very much.”

 

“So why were you so nervous about telling us?”

 

“I guess I was just worried about how my dating a man would impact all of you. Kids can be mean about stuff like this, as you all know-” he smiled at Sarah, who grinned back at him “-and I didn’t want anyone to make fun of you just because of who I fell in love with.”

 

“Daddy, please,” Charlotte smirked. “If Henry got suspended for breaking someone’s arm for bullying Sarah, what makes you think all of us wouldn’t do the same thing because some ignorant kid made fun of our Daddy?”

 

“You mean you’ll handle it with your words like a civilized person, right Charlotte?” Michelle piped up.

 

“Yes, Mummy, that’s _exactly_ what I meant,” Charlotte replied in a voice that was too innocent to convince any of them that she wouldn’t break someone’s nose if they ever said anything about him.

 

“Can I get a hug now?” Greg asked his kids. Instantly six adolescents leapt off the couch and clung onto him, reminding him just how loved he was.

 

“When do we get to meet him?” Sarah asked.

 

"As soon as I get to meet this new girlfriend that you've been hiding from all of us." Greg smirked as Sarah stiffened and mumbled something into his rib cage about it being too early and how she hated him and Mum and not knowing how they'd figured it out because she'd hidden it so well it out. "If all of you want to, you can stay over at my flat in town next weekend and we can invite him over. Does that sound good, Mum?"

Michelle nodded. "I think that's a perfect plan."


	2. Meeting Mycroft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft is nervous about meeting Greg's kids.

Chapter Two: Meeting Mycroft

 

Greg left the house late the day he told his kids he was seeing another man. He had tucked the younger ones in and read them a chapter from the book they were reading, and he stayed up with the older ones and made fun of some idiotic reality show while Michelle and Dave had a night out. When she got in around 10:30, Henry and Tristan were slumped on the couch against each other fast asleep, and Greg somehow had an arm around both of them. Sarah was curled up against him on his other side, wide awake and talking to him.

 

Sarah had started talking when her brothers had passed out about half an hour earlier. Greg had teased her a bit about having her first serious girlfriend and had pressed for a few minor details. Sarah was normally a bubbly kid, but tonight she seemed… quiet. Not tired, but subdued. Greg asked her if there was something bothering her.

 

“There have just been some nasty kids at school lately. Nothing really out of the ordinary,” she admitted to him softly.

 

“The fact that this is ‘ordinary’ for you shouldn’t be alright, sweetheart,” Greg had frowned. “What are they saying?”

 

“Oh, more of the same, and a few new things. Some of the guys are coming up to me and saying how if I spent a night with them I wouldn’t ever want to go back to a girl. There are a few who are convinced that I’m too pretty to be a dyke-” Greg cringed at the thought of someone using that word to describe his oldest, and then realized that must have been the way his parents felt when he had been beaten up in his last year before uni and some Neanderthal had carved the word ‘fag’ into his forearm. He would have to call them and thank them for everything they did for him in the morning. “-and that I’ve just been doing it for attention. Then there have been some girls who don’t want me to sit with them at lunch because they’re worried the guys will think they’re lesbians too and they won’t want to get near them, and there’s those who keep asking me to make out with them because they feel like if the guys in our class see them with another girl, it will make them hotter.”

 

“Sarah. Why haven’t you told me any of this? Does Mum know?”

 

“No, and I would rather keep it that way. I really don’t want to stir things up, Dad. It’s nearly summer holidays, and I only have to get through next year before I never have to go back there again.” Sarah was always the peacemaker. There were moments, moments like this one, where Greg wished she could give over to her less rational side and just get _angry_ because she was being treated unjustly, but he knew that she never would. Sarah always shrugged things off and tried her best to forget them. In a way, Greg was glad that of all of his children, Sarah was the one who was a homosexual. She was going to be the one who would deal with all of the hardships that life was about to throw at her with the most poise and grace.

 

As soon as he thought that, though, the armor cracked.

 

“Do they think that if I could make the choice, I would actually _choose_ to make my life hard? I can’t help it. I wish I could, but God I just _can’t_.”

 

“Sarah Marie,” he scolded firmly. “Don’t ever say that. Don’t even think it. That is what will break you. Thinking like that is what makes them win. Promise me that you won’t let yourself go there, because that’s what makes people think they aren’t good enough. That’s what makes people lose the will to fight for anything, and you have so much to fight for.” He didn’t say the bit in his head about what his absolute greatest fear is, because he can’t let her know that. He had dreams that he would show up to crime scenes and his children were the victims, but he had a separate dream that it seemed to be reserved just for her. It involved no investigation and no trial, just his baby girl, package of sharp, lethal razors, and him trying desperately to wake her up, not caring that his whole team and John and Sherlock and it seems like the whole world are all watching him.

 

She seemed to pick up on his meaning, though. “I promise, Daddy. I promise I’m not a suicide risk or anything. Don’t worry.”

 

He grunted. “Will you tell me when stuff like this happens when I call? I won’t force you to do anything about it. I don’t want you carrying all of this around by yourself.” She hummed and nodded into his chest. “Thank you.”

 

They sat there for a few more minutes in silence.

 

“I just don’t understand why people have to be so cruel, Daddy,” she finally whispered.

 

“I wish I had a good answer for you, sweetheart,” Greg sighed, running his fingers through her long hair, the exact same color that his used to be. From looking at her, you wouldn’t automatically assume that Sarah was a lesbian. She had never cut her hair short, and when she wasn’t in her school uniform, she opted to wear dresses, hair bows, makeup, and feminine jewelry. Of course, Greg knew that didn’t matter. Being a lesbian didn’t mean you were automatically butch, just like being gay didn’t mean that you were naturally effeminate. Greg just squeezed her tightly and wished he could take away his little girl’s pain.

 

It was about then that Michelle walked in. She helped him coax Henry and Tristan up and into their beds, and then she ordered Sarah to say goodnight to her father and go to sleep. Once they were all in bed, they headed downstairs and Greg began to gather his things.

 

“Keep an eye out for Sarah. There’s been some additional bullying going on,” he said. Michelle sighed and nodded.

 

“You’re welcome to stay the night, Greg. You always are,” Michelle offered.

 

He shook his head. “Maybe some other night when they convince me to stay out past my bedtime. Mycroft got off of work a little while ago and I’m going to head over to his place.”

 

“How often do you get to see him?” she asked.

 

“Usually twice a week, three times if I’m really lucky.”

 

“Not enough?”

 

“Not nearly,” Greg agreed. “But if I’m being perfectly honest with myself, I could spend the rest of my life conjoined at the hip with that man, and it still probably wouldn’t be enough.”

 

Michelle giggled. “Go on, get out of here. Go have mind blowing sex with your boyfriend.”

 

“Watch it,” he warned, but his grin gave away the fact that yes, he was very much looking forward to hopping into bed with Mycroft. He placed a kiss on Michelle’s cheek and opened the door.

 

“Drive safely. Text me when you get there. I know how you get when you’re tired.”

 

“Yes, Mum,” he sighed. He then hopped in his car and drove back into the city. He parked in the lot under Mycroft’s building, fired off a quick text to his ex, hopped on the elevator, and rode it all the way up to the Penthouse where he gorgeous boyfriend was waiting for him.

 

* * *

 

 

Mycroft spent the next Friday night over at Greg’s flat. They woke up tangled together, completely naked, in bed, and quickly took care of any morning issues by rutting desperately against each other, and then by moving into the shower to clean each other off after Greg had thrown his sheets into the washing machine so they were taken care of before the kids got there in the afternoon.

 

Once they had finished having sex for the morning, Greg stood in the kitchen and made pancakes while Mycroft pretended to read the newspaper. Greg had been working for the last several months to convince Mycroft that there was absolutely nothing wrong with his body and that he didn’t need to be on a diet, so when he merely poked at his pancakes, Greg worried that he was on some sort of new dieting kick that was not going to be good for him.

 

“Are you dieting again?”

 

Mycroft’s head snapped up. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

 

Greg gestured vaguely to Mycroft’s plate. “You’ve barely touched that.” Mycroft made a noncommittal noise. “I will keep saying it until you believe me, My. You are absolutely perfect and you don’t need to be on any sort of diet, no matter what your brother may say. I think you’re perfect just as you are.”

 

Mycroft blushed and ducked his head. “Thank you, Gregory, but no, I’m not on a diet, despite my own better judgment.”

 

Greg ignored the jab and asked, “Do you want me to make you something else?”

 

“No, these are perfect, but…”

 

“What is it? Just spit it out, love, I won’t care what it is.”

 

“What if they don’t like me?” Mycroft asked sheepishly.

 

Greg would have laughed if Mycroft wasn’t so serious. “What’s brought this on so suddenly? Sure, you’re meeting them in a few hours, but you haven’t shown and signs of worrying so far. Have you been protecting my feelings again?”

 

Mycroft looked extremely guilty. “I’m sorry, Gregory. I just- I can’t do this any longer. I’m so scared that they won’t like me and if they don’t like me, then I’ll lose you, and I _can’t_ lose you. Not now, not ever.”

 

Mycroft then got up and began pacing around Greg’s small sitting area. “Hey now, you don’t get to walk away from something like this.” Greg marched over to the couch and sat down, patting the cushion next to him. “Please, My, just sit down and talk to me.” Mycroft sat, but he didn’t speak, and he had started to put up what felt like a brick wall between them.

 

“What did you mean, you’ll lose me? I promise that I’m not going anywhere.” Greg took both of Mycroft’s hands in his and rubbed them gently.

 

“You might not be planning on it, but if your children hate me, which I am certain they will, you will feel that you have to choose between them and me. I could never ask you to choose anything over them. I wouldn’t be able to blame you for that.”

 

Greg was speechless.

 

“Had you thought of it like that before? Oh, God, you hadn’t. I’ve spoiled what is supposed to be a perfectly lovely day by just being me. They’re going to hate me, and now you’re going to worry and it’s just all my fault. I shouldn’t have even told you how much I want to meet them. This is why I am so rubbish at these sorts of things. You should just get out while you still can because I am clearly unable to handle a romantic relationship like an adult and-”

 

“My, will you just shut up for a second!” Greg nearly shouted. Mycroft looked up at him, breathing heavily and looking completely shattered. “Thank you. Will you let me say something completely uninterrupted?” Mycroft nodded. “When Michelle said she was vetting you that day at lunch, she wasn’t just kidding. She wouldn’t have let you near them if she didn’t like you or didn’t think we were ready to take this step as a couple. More importantly, she wouldn’t have let you near them if she didn’t think that they would warm up to you right now because she wouldn’t want to put that kind of strain on us. She doesn’t trust many people. It’s part of the reason that she’s such a kick-ass lawyer. It also makes her an amazing mother because she’s so fiercely protective of our kids. If she didn’t take to you, she wouldn’t have hesitated to say to you ‘no, sorry, I don’t want you anywhere near my offspring in the foreseeable future’ and that would have been that. More importantly, and I don’t mean this to sound cocky, but my kids _worship_ me. For some strange reason, they love me to a nearly unhealthy degree. Those who have been through the worst year of growing up haven’t had  a rocky relationship with me at any point. They like what I like, and if I was able to portray just a fraction of how much I adore you to them last weekend, they’re going to be head over heels in love with you the moment they set eyes on you.” He paused for a moment to let Mycroft absorb that information, and then asked, “Do you feel any better?”

 

“I love you so, so much, Gregory,” Mycroft managed huskily.

 

“I love you too. Even if I was forced to choose between you and my kids, I would spend the rest of my life alone and loving you from a distance. Or, I would wait until Katie was all grown up and out of school until I was a free man so I could make my move on you again, if you would still have me.”

 

Mycroft lifted one of Greg’s hands to his lips and pressed open-mouthed kisses to his palm. “Of course I would still have you, Gregory. I would wait for you until the world ended and then a thousand lifetimes after that.”

 

That was enough to simultaneously stop Greg’s heart and send all of the blood in his body rushing to his cock. “We have six hours until they get here. Wait here. Give me a few minutes to get everything sorted in there, and then let me take you to bed so I can try to show you just how much I adore you.”

 

Greg retrieved his now clean sheets from the dryer and remade his bed, smirking knowing that he would have to wash them again this afternoon. Then he retrieved Mycroft and made love to him at a pace that was so torturously slow that they both cried, which was a feat that Greg had only achieved once before in his sexual history. Greg pressed kisses and nipped bruises on his body while telling him how much he loved him, until Mycroft screamed in pleasure and came in between them, gasping and choking and sobbing into Greg’s hair.

  

* * *

 

 

Greg finished remaking his bed ten minutes before his kids arrived. He found Mycroft pacing around his sitting room.

 

“You’re going to wear a hole in my floor if you keep that up,” he smiled. “Come on, just sit with me for a few minutes. You’re going to get yourself even more would up before they get here.”

 

Mycroft huffed and sank down on the couch. Greg brushed some of the hair away from his forehead. His face was screwed up, almost as if he was refusing to breathe.

 

“My, breathe, please. You’re worrying me, “Greg said gently. He coaxed a few steady breaths out of his boyfriend and was relieved to see him relax a bit. He grinned. “There you are.”

 

Mycroft cleared his throat. “I confess, I don’t remember the last time I was this nervous.”

 

“You intimidate some of the most important people in the world for a living. I’m confident that you can handle yourself in the company of my children.” Greg rubbed his knee and Mycroft made a soft, appreciative noise in the back of his throat. His head dropped onto Greg’s shoulder and he kissed it through the fabric of his shirt.

 

They stayed like that for several minutes until there was a buzz that signaled someone was trying to get in to see him. Mycroft visibly tensed.

 

Greg reluctantly stood up to let his kids in. He took Mycroft’s hand and led him towards the door.

 

“They’re just miniature versions of me,” he said as they made their way down the seven flights of stairs between his flat and the lobby. It was his last best hope for calming him down. “You’re fine with me. Just pretend you’re talking to me as a kid. Except half of the time I’m going to have girl bits.”

 

Mycroft chuckled and squeezed his hand a bit tighter. Greg paused at the bottom of the stairs and took his boyfriend by his shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

 

“Gregory-”

 

“I love you,” he said forcefully. He then pressed a hard, closed-moth kiss to Mycroft’s lips. As he pulled away, he said, in a tone just as forceful as before, “Always.”

 

Mycroft nodded. “I know. I love you too. This is going to be just fine.”

 

Greg smiled. He knew that Mycroft was just saying it to try to convince himself that things would be okay, but as long as he was making the effort to think that things would be fine rather than panicking, he was already making a step in the right direction. He smoothed the lapels of his jacket and backing into the door and into the lobby.

 

All six of his kids were crowded around the door to the building. Michelle hung back a bit, looking almost apologetic that she couldn’t stop the onslaught that was about to happen.

 

As soon as Greg opened the door, he was thrown back by the force of six bodies hurling themselves at him. He made sure to kiss every one of them hello and wave to Michelle. They had agreed she would say her goodbyes to the kids before he got down there as they were working out logistics the day before. She grinned at him, then turned and left him to deal with their kids. He turned his head to see a somewhat shell-shocked Mycroft observing the tangle of limbs that used to be his boyfriend. He sighed. No point in delaying it any longer.

 

“Right,” he said, untangling himself from all of them. “Kids, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Mycroft Holmes. Mycroft, this is Sarah and Henry, Ian, Tristan, Charlotte, and Katie.”

 

“Hello,” Mycroft smiled, shifting is weight from foot to foot.

 

Much to Greg’s chagrin, his kids were all choosing this moment to be uncharacteristically shy. He knew that something like this had happened when Michelle had first introduced them to Dave,  but he had (stupidly) hoped that, since this was their second time meeting a potential step-parent, they could be used to it. He could see Mycroft begin to tense up a bit as well. This was not going well.

 

Then, miraculously, little Katie stepped right up to Mycroft, looked straight up at him, and wrapped her tiny arms around him, nuzzling her face into his abdomen. “You don’t have to be scared if us. Mum told us you might be, but I promise I haven’t bitten anyone since I was three and three quarters, and I’m six and a half now,” she declared.

 

Mycroft chuckled and hugged her back. “I promise I will be much less nervous now, my dear. It is particularly reassuring to know that you are no longer a biter.”

 

“Good,” Katie said. “Can we go up, now? I drew you a picture.”

 

“Sure, sweetie, let’s go up,” Greg interjected, opting to use the elevator for once because of overnight bags and small legs.

 

True to her word, Katie pulled a drawing out of her bag as soon as they were through the door of Greg’s apartment. Charlotte and Tristan hung behind their sister as if they were afraid she would humiliate them, and also as if they wanted to soak up a bit of her gumption around Mycroft.

 

“Did Mum really tell you all that he might be scared of you?” Greg asked Henry as they moved the younger ones abandoned bags into his bedroom.

 

“She didn’t say _that_ specifically. She just told us that he was a bit shy and if we scared him away, we would be grounded for several years because you really love him.” Henry paused, almost as if he was worried that he had stepped over some kind of boundary. “You do, don’t  you?”

 

“Yes,” Greg admitted. “More than I could ever express. Truthfully, all of you being so delicate will probably be worse for him. He really wants you to like him.”

 

“Thank God,” Henry sighed. “I was about to burst, and I thin Sarah and Ian are having a joint panic attack in your  bathroom about trying to hold back all weekend.”

 

“Shit,” Greg sighed, pushing past his son to try to avert a potential crisis in the bathroom. He managed to calm them down quickly and convince them that there was absolutely no need to walk on eggshells around Mycroft.

 

When he returned to the sitting room, he found Katie on Mycroft’s lap, and Charlotte and Tristan were flanking him on either side of the sofa asking him questions ( _What’s your favorite color? Do you have a dog? What’s your birthday? Do you have brothers and sisters? What is your middle name? What street is your house on? What is your favorite food?_ ) and he wasn’t able to get in any words edgewise, which was extremely rare for Mycroft. Greg let them interrogate him with their harmless questions for about a minute until-

 

“Do you love Daddy?”

 

_God dammit, Charlotte._

 

“With all of my heart.”

 

Greg suddenly felt as if he could fly-

 

“So are you gay or are you bisexual as well?”

 

-but that feeling was quickly fading.

 

“I’m gay.”

 

“So you don’t care that Daddy likes girls too?”

 

“Why should I? He wouldn’t have you if he didn’t, and that would be a very sad world.”

 

“Do you _really_ like the picture?”

 

“I’m going to hang it in my office where I can see it all the time.”

 

“Like Daddy does?”

 

“Just like your Daddy does.”

 

“Do you have any allergies?”

 

Greg decided that this was a good time to make his presence known and suggest that they go and take a walk in the park.

  

* * *

 

 

Mycroft and the kids got along splendidly. It took a little while for his older kids to be completely comfortable with the situation, but by the end of their walk they were just fine. They continued to spend time with him after Greg retreated into the kitchen to get dinner ready. He could still see them, and could hear them reasonably well. Thankfully, no horrifically awkward questions were asked and he didn’t need to intervene.

 

Dinner flew by, and Mycroft began hinting that he should be leaving. Katie nearly burst into tears and asked, in a quite pitiful voice, “Aren’t you going to have a sleepover with us?”

 

Mycroft was caught off guard. “I wouldn’t want your father to not get to spend his equal share of time with you.”

 

“But we’ve known Daddy our whole lives and we’ve _just met_ you,” Charlotte sighed. “Besides, you’re much cooler than he is.”

 

“Oi!” Greg called out, too elated by his kids so obviously adoring his boyfriend to be hurt.

 

“Oh, Dad, you know it’s true,” Tristan piped up. “Can he stay?”

 

“I wouldn’t have anything to wear-” Mycroft began to protest.

 

“I could let you borrow something. Would you be okay on the floor, though? The bed, the couch, and the air mattress are all claimed,” Greg called over his shoulder nonchalantly, as if Mycroft didn’t spend any overlapping free evenings they had at Greg’s place or entertaining Greg at his flat.

 

“Please?” Katie begged. “We all really want you to stay.”

 

Mycroft looked to Greg for a way out, but Greg just looked at him with the best puppy dog eyes he could manage. Mycroft smiled down at Katie and said, “It looks like I’ll be staying.”

 

* * *

 

 

Most of the kids collapsed at the end of the night. Henry dragged himself to the air mattress next to Greg’s bed, but Greg had to carry the other five to their designated resting places. Mycroft had fetched some blankets and pillows from the linen closet in the hallway while Greg was busy moving them, tucking them in, and then sorting out the bed in the sofa for Ian and Tristan. He had hardly noticed Mycroft setting up a nest of sorts for them on the other side of the sitting room.

 

“You didn’t need to do that,” he stage whispered.

 

Mycroft shook his head. “You had your hands full.”

 

Greg chuckled softly. “Listen, if you want to go, I wouldn’t mind. I mean, I would mind, but you probably aren’t used to sleeping on blankets on the floor.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can handle sleeping on the ground.”

 

They climbed into the cocoon of blankets that had been laid out and curled up in each other’s  arms like they did every night that they spent together. Mycroft buried his head in the hollow part of Greg’s chest and whispered, “I think they liked me.”

 

“Jesus, My, they more than liked you. They adored you. You had nothing to worry about.”

 

“Oh, but I did.” Mycroft tilted his head up so he could see Greg’s face. “I was so worried you’d be forced to choose, and I know I wouldn’t have a chance. But they actually liked me, which doesn’t happen all that often.”

 

“I like you.”

 

“It must be a genetic flaw then.”

 

“Must be. I wouldn’t do anything to try to fix it though,” Greg muttered, brushing the hair along Mycroft’s forehead away from his eyes.

 

Mycroft leaned up and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to Greg’s lips. “Please don’t,” he whispered seriously.

 

“No,” Greg whispered back, shifting so Mycroft could settle into his original position so they could go to sleep. “Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: That’s it! I hope y’all liked it! I’m currently working on another story to go with this one. I was originally writing it as a standalone, but I decided to tie it in with this. It isn’t close to done yet though. I hope to get it up here within a month.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support. As always, I don’t own anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, I'm sorry it's awful. I just sort of threw it together and decided to humiliate myself by putting it online. Any constructive criticism is appreciated (as well as praise, but let's not kid ourselves here), but please be gentle because I'm still new at this and putting myself out there like this is still scary, even if it's online and you can't see my face.
> 
> Up next: Mycroft meets the kids.


End file.
